


Clearing the Air

by athos



Series: Tumblr Shorts [3]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Conversation, Enthusiastic Consent, Explicit Consent, Get Together, Hair Pulling, Kink Negotiation, Kissing, Kneeling, M/M, Mixed Signals, Modern Thedas AU, less awkward than it could have been, of course the Iron Bull hosts private kinky play parties
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-17
Updated: 2017-07-17
Packaged: 2018-12-03 12:12:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11531964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/athos/pseuds/athos
Summary: Alistair is hesitant to take what Dorian offers. Dorian convinces Alistair that he's really quite happy to be taken.





	Clearing the Air

**Author's Note:**

> This Dorian is different that the Dorian I tend to see (and love) in fanfic-- this is Dorian after a few years of therapy and good friendships.

 

Dorian led Alistair to a low couch in a quieter room of the house--no play in this room, just a few small groups snuggling or providing aftercare. Three months ago, mutual friends had introduced them at one of Bull’s invite-only play parties, and they had hit it off (in an uncharacteristically--for Dorian, at least--hands-off way). Weeks of regular dates and lengthy conversations about a dazzling variety of topics had made Dorian a little (his friends would say a _lot)_ smitten, and he was confident that Alistair was attracted to him, as well. _Thank the Maker for that-- unrequited attraction is such a bore,_ Dorian reflected.

Given that they’d been introduced in kinky surroundings, it was no surprise that many of their conversations were about their attitudes and experiences, some of them quite explicit. It took time for Dorian to realize that Alistair could speak frankly about kink and sexual matters in general, but when Dorian suggested (at first with subtlety, then with increasing boldness) that he would enjoy such things _with_ Alistair, he transformed from a creative and compelling dominant into a bashful, blushing… Dorian didn’t know _what,_ only that the mixed signals were confusing.

Alistair was the consummate gentleman, but as time passed Dorian realized that Alistair’s gentlemanlyness-- _is that even a word, Dorian?--_ was more than chivalry.  Alistair took courtesy into the realm of self-effacement and denial. The novelty for Dorian went from baffling to endearingly amusing to frustrating.

_Time to clear the air,_ Dorian thought, taking a seat beside Alistair. _Ease into it, or… No. Fortune favors the bold._

“Are you not interested in playing with me?” he asked softly, amused as Alistair blinked in obvious surprise. “It’s fine if you aren’t--”

“No! I mean, yes! Maker, yes, I would _love_ to play with you.” Alistair’s fingers curled inward in an unconscious possessive gesture. “I want--Not that the talks and coffee and lunches aren’t wonderful; I don’t want you to think that I’m only after play and sex…I mean, I also don’t mean to be monopolizing your time; you must have so many be--other people to see...” Alistair ran a hand through his hair, something Dorian now knew he did when he was feeling flustered.

Alistair did it rather a lot. Dorian both wanted to run his hands through the auburn strands to reorder them, and to see them disarrayed for more scandalous reasons.

“I never thought you were only spending time with me for sex,” Dorian said, “though I’m _very_ pleased to hear it’s been on your mind.” He winked at Alistair, smiling to see him blush. He took Alistair’s slightly clammy hand in his own, leaned forward and asked solemnly, willing him to be honest, “Alistair, what’s holding you back?”

Alistair looked over Dorian,  who recognized the wistful wonder in his eyes. He squeezed Dorian’s hand and said with a slight smile, “It’s just… you could have anyone here.”

_'I don’t know how you could want me’_ is what Dorian heard. _‘I don’t know how you could want me; I want so much, but I have so little to offer you; You must be moved by pity rather than desire, and I’m nearly desperate enough to accept it anyways’_ is what, a few years ago, Dorian had really meant when he say the same words to partners who were--according to him--too attractive, too competent, too intelligent... He shifted his weight to the edge of the couch cushion and remembered Cullen and Cassandra’s warnings: _‘Years of self-doubt and emotionally incompetent boyfriends… He’s_ definitely _interested in you; he’s been agonizing over how to proceed... He’s doesn’t know how to let himself have things that he wants… You’ll have to convince him that you’re serious.’_

“You’re absolutely right,” Dorian said, rising to his feet. The couch was low enough that he compensated by sticking his ass out perhaps a bit more than necessary, but he knew it looked good. As he rose, Alistair's face flickered to reflect panic before settling on dismay, which he tried to mask.  _Quickly now, quickly…_  Dorian thought, standing right in front of Alistair and pressing their knees together. Dorian caught Alistair’s wide eyes and continued, “I could play with many of the tops here tonight. I’m attractive, submissive, experienced, in many ways an ideal partner.” It was true, and Dorian never even pretended to play at modesty.

“And yet…” Dorian pushed a knee between Alistair’s legs and made room for himself, “here I am, with you.”

Alistair said nothing.

“Here I _have_ been, for weeks, learning more and more about you, and I have yet to find anything that displeases me.” Dorian gave Alistair a slow lookover, ending with a leer and a wink.

Alistair grinned through his blush and raised his eyebrows. He licked his lips and said, “Likewise.”

Dorian gracefully knelt between Alistair’s legs, a part of him smug at the twitch he noticed under the fly of Alistair’s pants but the rest of him focused on Alistair’s guileless face. Alistair in turn looked back at him, his eyes rapt and smile softening. Sitting up on his knees, with Alistair’s thighs framing his waist, Dorian put his hands on either side of Alistair’s hips on the couch and pushed himself forward. He held his chest just barely above Alistair’s, and the muscles of Alistair’s pecs brushed Dorian’s shirt with every inhalation.

“Here I am,” he repeated in a whisper only a few inches from Alistair’s lips. Alistair’s thighs reflexively tightened around Dorian’s hips for a brief, beautiful moment before Alistair heaved in a breath and relaxed them. Breaking their locked gaze, Dorian moved his head forward to say in Alistair’s ear, “I’m as strong as you.” Probably not true, but that was beside the point. He pressed a gentle kiss to Alistair’s cheek and moved his head to the other side, this time letting his torso rest firmly against Alistair. Dorian could feel quick breaths underneath him. “I’m more powerful than you,” he said, kindling his mana just enough to remind Alistair that he was a mage, but not enough to arouse Alistair’s latent Templar abilities. He felt Alistair shiver and his knees tighten around him again. “By now you certainly know I do not suffer manipulation or allow myself to be played.” He kissed Alistair’s other cheek.

Returning to center, he looked into Alistair’s eyes--they were intent, pupils wide and dark. Dorian moved his hands from the couch cushion to the tops of Alistair’s thighs and squeezed, calmly stating, “Do not imagine, Alistair, that you can _force me,_ through words or actions, to do something truly against my will. And do not doubt that I will make my will known, when it conflicts with yours.”

Alistair nodded his understanding. Most of the doubt had left his expression, but he seemed to know that Dorian wasn’t finished.

Dorian took a deep breath, concentrating on imbuing his words with all of the sincerity he felt. “I know myself. I have come to know you. I am here because I _want_ to be here,” he said as he sat back on his heels, “on my knees,” his shift backwards pulled his hands from the top of Alistair’s thighs to his knees, and instead of scraping his nails teasingly through the material at the inseam, Dorian kept the pressure of his hands strong and even, comforting instead of arousing, “ardently at your feet.”  

Alistair’s fists grabbed unconsciously at the couch cushion and his knees snapped back to either side of Dorian’s ribs, not squeezing as hard as Alistair was capable of, and the tremor Dorian felt in Alistair’s thighs told him that Alistair was holding back. _I adore your chivalry, but I’ve really had enough._

Dorian straightened his spine in the restrained embrace, relaxed his shoulders over Alistair’s knees, rotated his wrists over Alistair’s lap so that the undersides were bared to him, lifted his chin and concluded, “I am here because I want you, Alistair. I want you to want me. I want you to allow yourself to have me.”

Dorian had seem someone’s eyes smolder--he’d done some smoldering, himself--but he’d never really seen someone’s eyes _blaze_ until just then. Fierce desire flared in Alistair’s gorgeous eyes and sent a thrill through Dorian. Alistair's knees clamped shut around Dorian’s torso with enough strength that Dorian's breath left him in a short and pleased, “Oh!”

Alistair paused, looking intently--somehow even more intensely; _how does he do that?_ \-- at him. He took up Dorian’s offered wrists in his hands and held them, stroking the insides with the pads of his thumbs. _Oh, yes, please…_

“I want to kiss you,” Alistair said.

“Like you mean it?” Dorian asked with a raised eyebrow.

“I _do_ mean it,” Alistair replied, squeezing tighter with his legs.

“How about you hold my wrists like you mean it, then?” Dorian helpfully suggested with a smile.

The amusement in Alistair’s answering grin was exhilarating, but Dorian didn’t have very long to appreciate it. Alistair caught both of Dorian’s wrists in one hand and tugged them to his hip while his other hand made a fist in Dorian’s hair. Dorian pushed his head back in Alistair’s cautious grip. Alistair looked down thoughtfully and tightened his hold. Dorian nudged again and Alistair held on tighter-- _Ooooh, yes, that’s it!_ Dorian thought as pain sparkled across his scalp and he sighed with pleasure. Before he could twitch his wrists Alistair squeezed his hand around them and Dorian gasped through his smile. Then he pulled Dorian’s wrists back a few more inches until Dorian was helplessly stretched out, neck bared, chest heaving.

Dorian’s breath caught at the possessiveness and single-minded focus in Alistair’s eyes. Alistair leaned down until his lips were close to Dorian’s throat and ordered, “Ask me.”

“Kiss me,” Dorian said without thinking. He moaned when Alistair nipped his throat with sharp teeth, and quickly corrected, “Alistair, please, kiss me?”

Alistair relaxed his grip on Dorian’s hair, combing through it with his fingers and smiling widely when Dorian kept his head back, pliantly accepting the caress. “Dorian," Alistair said sincerely, "thank you." Then Alistair seized Dorian's hair tightly, twisted his fist just right, and kissed him.

In the triumphant daze that followed, Dorian distantly thought, _This_ _is going to be amazing._

 

 


End file.
